Live and Let Drood: A Secret Histories Novel (12 page)

BOOK: Live and Let Drood: A Secret Histories Novel
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I felt strong and vital, more than human, but also full of anger for my enemies, for those who had dared strike at my family. I ached for
revenge, for the chance to get my hands on my enemy and make him pay…feelings that might not have been entirely mine.

I turned and strode quickly through the hedgerows. With my golden armour about me, I could now clearly see the shining, shimmering lifeline that fell away before me, stretching off into the distance. The connection Molly had made between us. It was lovely to look at, but I had no time for that. I hurried on, moving faster and faster, following the thread out of the Maze. It took me a while to get my balance, training my new armour to move in a human way. But soon enough I was running headlong, my long legs eating up the distance while my arms pumped tirelessly at my sides. My heavy feet tore open the grass beneath me and threw up earth divots in my wake. It felt good to be running so freely, to be exceeding human limitations again, after being limited to merely human moves for so long. And soon, soon I came to the entrance to the Maze and burst through and out of it, back into the world again, where my Molly was waiting for me.

Molly Metcalf took one look at me and hit me with every bit of magic at her command. Terrible energies flared and spat on the air around her upraised hands, striking out to pound against my armoured chest and head, forcing me to an abrupt halt and then slamming me backwards, step by step, impact by impact, forcing me back towards the Maze entrance. But whatever its origin, this was still Drood armour, and I quickly recovered my balance and dug in my heels. I stood my ground, actually leaning forward into her magical attack, and her vicious energies broke and burst against my golden metal, detonating harmlessly about me. Molly scowled fiercely, her flashing dark eyes focused and determined, and hit me again and again with her best sorcerous attacks. And I just stood there and took it.

And then I raised one hand and wagged a single pointed golden finger at her, more in sorrow than in anger. Molly froze. And while her assault was stopped, I concentrated in a certain way and the new armour retreated into my torc. Leaving me open and revealed to the world and my Molly. Her look of surprise was actually comical, but I had enough
sense not to laugh. I looked about me. The world seemed a duller and flatter thing now, perceived only through my human senses, but it was still a warm and lovely place and I was glad to be back in it. I fell to my knees as the day’s burdens rushed in upon me, and I thrust my fingers deep into the grass and earth before me, rooting myself in the world. It was good to be back. The steady warmth of the summer’s day drove the armour’s cold out of my body, out of my heart and soul, but my torc still burnt coldly about my throat, as though in warning. I realised Molly was kneeling beside me, saying my name over and over, and I finally found the strength to turn and smile at her.

“Eddie! Talk to me, dammit! Are you all right? Do you need me to rip that torc off your throat and throw it back into the Maze?”

“No,” I said immediately, if only to stop the relentless flow of her words. “I’m fine, Molly. Really. The armour’s…safe inside my torc. We came to an arrangement inside the Maze. It will serve me. For now.”

I slowly got to my feet again, with Molly’s help. The experience had taken a lot out of me. Molly was looking at me anxiously, clearly waiting for details of the arrangement I’d agreed to, but I didn’t tell her. I knew she wouldn’t approve.

“You were in there for ages,” said Molly. “It’s been almost three hours!”

I blinked a few times at that. Time must have moved differently inside the Maze.

“I’ve been walking up and down outside the entrance, working on my magics, waiting for you to come out,” Molly went on, when it became clear I had nothing to say. “I wanted to be sure I had something useful in hand, just in case the armour had taken you over. So when you just came rushing out, not even talking to me, I sort of assumed the worst.”

“Sorry,” I said. “I got a bit carried away. I hadn’t realised how much I missed wearing armour.”

“Anyway,” said Molly. “Some of what I hit you with should have strengthened your torc, giving you more control over your new armour. So it can’t come and go as it pleases or deny you when you need it.”

“Good,” I said. “Good idea, Molly. The strange matter in the torc should also help to keep the rogue armour in its place.”

“But, Eddie, listen to me! This is important. I’ve no idea how long your torc will be able to control the armour, even with my magics’ support. We are in unknown territory here.…It could last for days or weeks or just a few hours.”

“Got it,” I said. I didn’t tell her it didn’t matter. That I would wear the armour for as long as I needed to find my family. And worry about everything else afterwards.

“So,” said Molly. “What does it feel like…wearing Moxton’s armour?”

“Cold,” I said immediately, before I could stop myself. “Very cold…and inhuman…But it’ll do the job and that’s all that matters.” I realised Molly was looking at me oddly. “What?”

“When you came out of the Maze, wearing that armour…You didn’t look anything like you usually do. You didn’t even look like a Drood. I don’t know what Moxton based his designs on, but I don’t think it was anything human.” She scowled, searching for the right words. “The way you were moving, the impression you gave—I wasn’t sure there was anything inside the armour.”

“It’s still me, Molly,” I said. “I’m still here.”

“Not when you’re wearing that armour, you’re not. I can tell.”

“I need it, Molly. Can’t do the job without it.”

“I know. But once this is over, first chance you get, ditch the bloody thing.”

“Hush,” I said quietly. “I think…it’s listening.”

“Things just get better all the time,” said Molly. “So, what now?”

“We need answers,” I said. “We need hard information as to exactly what went down here and who was behind it. Someone out there will know. Someone always knows. But where do we go to ask? Time was, we’d have just dropped into the Wulfshead Club, that celebrated supernatural watering hole, paid for a round for the house, and they’d have been lining up to tell us everything we needed to know. But I’m pretty sure I’m persona non grata there, after the…recent unpleasantness.”

“You mean when you completely lost control, beat up everyone who got in your way and half killed your old friend the Indigo Spirit?” said Molly. “Oh, hell, yes, Eddie. They’re still talking about that, and not in a good way. You are banned from the Wulfshead for life, Eddie Drood, and possibly even longer than that.”

“But that’s just Eddie Drood,” I said, craftily. “I could still sneak in as Shaman Bond, couldn’t I?”

“I wouldn’t,” said Molly. “I really wouldn’t. Take it from me: That boat has sailed. Far too many people in that place now know Eddie and Shaman are the same man. No one’s actually given you up yet, but you can bet good money there’d be a race to drop you right in it if you were to push your luck. Give them time to calm down, and they might let you back in as Shaman. But right now the very least they’d do is set the hellhounds on you and blow your secret identity right out of the water.”

“But they will calm down?” I said. “Eventually?”

“Who can say?”

I looked at her thoughtfully. “You could always…”

“No, I couldn’t,” said Molly. “I’m banned, as well, just for knowing you.”

“Ah,” I said. “Sorry about that.”

“Don’t be! I’m not. Never cared much for the Wulfshead, anyway. Bit too elevated for my tastes. And it’s gone so upmarket these days…so up itself it’s practically staring out its own nostrils. And the bar prices suck big-time.”

I smiled. Molly can be very loyal in her own way. “So, where do we go for answers?”

“There’s always the Nightside.…”

“No there isn’t,” I said, very firmly.

“Oh, come on, Eddie! I know there are long-standing pacts between your family and the Nightside, keeping you all out…for reasons I have never had properly explained. But that can’t apply now, when you’re the only Drood left!”

“Nothing’s changed,” I said. “If I did go in there, on my own, in defiance of the pacts, they’d come straight at me with malice aforethought.
And, anyway, I don’t want anyone in the Nightside knowing my family isn’t around anymore. You couldn’t hope to ask questions and still keep it quiet. I don’t want the world knowing the Droods aren’t in charge anymore. When the Droods are away, the rats will run riot.”

“I could go into the Nightside,” said Molly. “I’ve got lots of contacts there. Not very nice contacts, perhaps, but I’m sure they’d give me all kinds of help once I started banging heads against walls.”

“No,” I said. “They’d only wonder why I wasn’t with you, start asking questions of their own and we’d be back where we started.”

“You don’t trust me on my own in the Nightside, with all its temptations. Do you?”

“No, I bloody don’t.”

Molly smiled, satisfied.

We both stood around for a while, trying to think of somewhere we could go, of people who might be persuaded to tell us useful things if we were insistent enough, in an intimidating sort of way. But approaching any of the usual unusual suspects would be bound to raise more questions than answers. The truth about my family’s…situation was bound to get out sooner or later, but I didn’t want to do anything that would make it sooner rather than later. I needed time to get to the truth—and whoever was behind it.

“We could always go into London, down Grafton Way,” Molly said tentatively. “Pay a polite and very under-the-radar visit to the Order of Beyond. We did go there once before, remember, when we were trying to track down Mr. Stab.”

“I remember,” I said. The Order of Beyond rounds up people who’ve been possessed by all the various forces from outside and then locks them up in cages and listens to them. Because the possessed do so love to talk. The Order slips in a few pointed questions from time to time, and sells whatever answers they get to the highest bidder. (You can subscribe to their monthly newsletter for the more basic stuff. I’ve never been tempted.)

“I don’t think so,” I said finally. “We wouldn’t learn anything we wanted to hear from those sources. Hell always lies.”

“Except when a truth can hurt you more.”

“Exactly.”

“All right. You suggest someone!”

“How about the Middle Man?” I said, just a bit diffidently. “He wouldn’t know who was behind something as big as this, but he’d almost certainly be able to point us in the direction of someone who would. For the right price, of course.”

“Eddie, he hates your family. You know that. You even hint at what’s happened to them and he’d break every record there is getting the news out to absolutely everyone. He loathes and despises everything Drood, and with more good reason than most.”

“We are a much-misunderstood family,” I said.

“Oh no, you aren’t.”

“Well, who is there we can safely talk to?” I said. “Who is there we can trust with this information?”

“We need my sisters,” said Molly, in her best
Yes, I know, but don’t argue with me
tone of voice. “We need Isabella and Louisa. They might not know who’s behind all this, but they have contacts in places I wouldn’t even dare show my face. And they’d be more than happy to kick the crap out of people on our behalf. Well, on my behalf. I don’t think they’ve quite made up their minds about you yet. But they’d do it for me.”

“Sisters, sisters, such devoted sisters…”


Shut up
, Eddie. No one would suspect anything if Isabella and Louisa were to go looking for information about the Hall and your family. They’re always looking into things they’re not supposed to know about.”

“I hate to say it,” I said. “But you may be right.”

Molly frowned dangerously. “What’s wrong with getting my sisters involved?”

“Since you ask, everything. Isabella, no problem. Arrogant and a pain in the arse, but she gets the job done. The Indiana Jones of the supernatural world, always sticking her nose in where it’s not wanted, digging up ancient history, hidden truths and things the world is not ready to know yet…while sneaking off with as much historical loot as
she can carry. Isabella, I can deal with. But Louisa? She’s got a worse reputation than you. Or me. Or Mr. Stab, the as-yet-uncaught immortal serial killer of Old London Town. Everyone’s scared of Louisa Metcalf, and with good reason.”

“Exactly!” said Molly. “Who’s going to say no to her when she starts asking questions?”

“All right,” I said. “I just know I’m going to regret this, but…go ahead and contact them.”

“Ah,” said Molly. “I already tried. They’re not answering. They’ve both got their auras turned off. Why would they do that?”

“They’re your sisters,” I said.

I could think of any number of reasons why the infamous Metcalf sisters would want to be off the radar, just off the top of my head…but I had enough sense not to say so. Every now and again I think I’m getting the hang of this relationship thing.

“But if both my sisters are out of touch, for the time being we’re right back where we started,” said Molly. “Who can we turn to for help? Most of our old friends and allies are dead or missing in action and presumed dead or just in hiding, after all the heavy dramas we’ve been through recently.”

“That’s what comes of dragging them into our wars,” I agreed. “We are not safe to be around.…I think we’re going to have to go looking for the few Droods we know are still left alive in this world. I’m pretty sure there aren’t any agents left out in the field; we called in absolutely everyone for our last few wars.”

“Including the ones who didn’t want to come?” said Molly.

“Oh, those most of all,” I said. “No, I’m talking about the rogues. Those members of the family who ran away or were kicked out or went to ground to escape our justice. Our punishment for their crimes against Humanity.”

“You’re being a bit hard on the rogues, aren’t you?” said Molly. “Considering you were one.” She looked distinctly amused.

“That was different,” I said with some dignity. “I was only on the run because I’d been falsely accused.”

“And because your grandmother wanted you dead.”

BOOK: Live and Let Drood: A Secret Histories Novel
9.03Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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